


Honesty by Peruvian Gypsy

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:06:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene pre-"Survival" telling what exactly happened when Blair shared his journal with his girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honesty by Peruvian Gypsy

A post for you all, inspired by all the discussion of Blair's diary on the list...not to mention those bells I've been hearing... :-) Here's the rules: 

Rating: PG for implied m/f and m/m. The Sentinel doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Pet Fly, and I mean no copyright infringement. Has been spell checked; has not been Beta'd -- for those who care. 

## Honesty

(Or, "Shoulda made that left turn at Alburquerque") :-)

by Peruvian Gypsy  


Blair Sandburg was nervous. 

He pushed his hair out of his face, pacing the small confines of the kitchen. He shouldn't be nervous. No reason to be. None at all. Hell, everyone was always telling him his lies were wrong -- and they *had* gotten him into more than a little trouble with women. So he was trying to change, give honesty a go. It was the right thing to do, would only bring them closer together. Jim would approve. A more honest person Blair had never met. Wouldn't kill him to learn a little there. 

And hadn't she been thrilled when he offered to let her read his journal? (Yes, *journal*, not diary. Diaries were for girls. A journal, now that's a *man's* book). It was a peace offering, an expression of trust and openness. In fact she was so happy with him that their sex had been *great* tonight, better than ever. If he was lucky he could look forward to a repeat performance, as she enthusiastically thanked him... He glanced at the clock, calculating how much time they'd have before he had to worry about Jim coming home from that stakeout. One of Jim's house rules. No sex in the loft. Okay, so he'd broken it -- but it was for a *really* good cause... 

That cause was now in his bedroom, reading his journal. So she'd *know* he had no secrets from her, no lies. And more importantly that he didn't *want* there to be any. He felt very grown up, and more than a little proud of himself for taking this big step. 

But he also felt very nervous. One fact, just a small fact that he'd somehow forgotten in all the years of lies -- he'd never had very good luck with the truth either. Most people couldn't handle it. Didn't want to handle it. Couldn't accept it...him, as he was. Total, unvarnished truth... 

His eyes darted to the closed door, wondering if it was too late to run in and snatch the book from her hands. Probably. That would only convince her he *did* have something to hide. What was the point? The only thing he could do now was wait for the verdict. 

It wasn't long in coming. 

He'd only made 39 laps around the kitchen when the door flew open, and a willowy brunette stormed out of the bedroom, her eyes flashing at him. He'd always found her incredibly sexy when she was angry -- but when it was at him, that wasn't very useful. 

"Uh... you read it," he ventured cautiously, waiting for clues to tell which of his exploits she'd gotten to. She couldn't have finished it all, she wasn't a speed reader, and hadn't been in there long enough. Bad sign. 

"I don't believe this!" she yelled, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "I mean, how... I thought I knew you! I can't...deal with this." 

He mentally ran over the women detailed in the book, but as he did so a thread of his own anger preempted thoughts of salvaging the situation. "Wait a minute -- you *knew* my past was in there. You knew there were other women \-- I thought you *wanted* to know!" 

"Well I wasn't expecting this!" she said, and thrust an open page at him. 

Blair leaned forward just enough to see which page she was on, and blanched. He didn't have to read far, he knew this particular one by heart... 

> I had that dream again last night. God, I'm so embarrassed. I can barely stand to look at Jim this morning. The details vary slightly, but the basic theme is always the same. Jim and me, in bed, naked. Making love... And it's so intense and incredible that I can't think of anything but being with him. Like a great tidal wave of power just washes over us, and I'm helpless to stop it. Something almost elemental in it's intensity. Primal even. It's like...magic. 
> 
> No, that's crazy. 
> 
> I gotta be honest here, just thinking about it is enough to wake me up, if you know what I mean. So I'm not gonna go into detail here. Besides, I don't think it's necessary in this case. I mean, it's only a dream. And I know enough psych from my minor to know that dreams, even fantasies, don't necessarily mean anything in the light of day. In Kinsey's report alone, it's proven that many heterosexuals have homoerotic dreams and fantasies. Let's not even get into Hite's. It's perfectly normal. Not something you act on in real life. Just like... like women having rape fantasies. Doesn't mean they want to be raped. Just an outlet, entertainment. Means nothing. 
> 
> So it's no biggie. Just a bit embarrassing. Happens to the best of us. 
> 
> I wonder if Jim ever had these kinds of dreams about me... 

The entry abruptly ended after that. The next day went on to catalog his troubles with Samantha's birthday present in Anthropological detail. Back to normal. 

Blair looked up at her. "That's it? You're freaking because of a dream?" he wondered if his incredulousness sounded as phony to her as it did to his own ears, which were burning with heat. 

Her gaze measured him levelly, as if assessing the strategy of a debate. "It's about another man, Blair. Your roommate." 

"Hey, c'mon," he began nervously, "did you read the whole thing? Lots of people--" 

She cut him off. "I minored in psych too, remember? And sometimes dreams are the subconscious dealing with issues the conscious mind can't face yet. And I know you *both*, Blair. I've seen how you are together. I'm not convinced. Are you?" 

"But what's--" 

She cut him off yet again. "It's simple, Blair. Can you look me in the eye, and tell me with complete *certainty*, that the thought of sex with Jim Ellison doesn't interest you at all? That it repulses you? And would you like to tell me exactly how many times you've had this dream?" 

"Wait a sec--" It was a good thing she hadn't pressed for an answer, some distant part of his brain admitted. To either question. 

"No, Blair. Because it's that simple. I can't trust you, can't trust that it won't one day become more than 'just' a dream. I won't compete with another man." 

Blair turned away from her uncomfortable gaze. Trust. There was that dirty word again. He'd been trying so hard to be honest, and it backfired. Maybe there was something inherently untrustworthy about him. If they didn't believe he was lying to them, then they thought he was lying to himself. 

Couldn't win for losing. 

"Jim would never..." A last ditch attempt to appease her suspicions, and he knew the moment it left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. 

For a moment her eyes softened, and she gently touched his arm. "I'm sorry Blair," she murmured. "I hope everything works out for you." Changeable, that she had always been. She turned at the door, and her gaze became confrontational again as she had her last word. "By the way, I didn't appreciate the comment about rape fantasies, you chauvinist pig! I don't particularly find anything sexy about rape, and if you think women do you've got more problems than I thought!" The slamming door punctuated her declaration. 

"But Kinsey said..." he trailed off to the empty room. 

No use.  
  


* * *

His tea was long cooled, sitting on the table untouched. Blair lounged on the couch, trying to replay the evening to figure out where he'd made that wrong turn. //Shoulda made that left at Albuquerque,// he muttered to himself with a ghost of a grin, wishing a good dose of Bugs Bunny would work here as it had lifted his spirits in his childhood. 

Blair tried to analyze his mistakes, but a few inconsequential thoughts kept intruding. Why hadn't he remembered about that particular entry, realized it might not go over well? Maybe he hadn't wanted to remember. Or he'd trusted her enough to share it all with her, wrongly thinking hot sex with several babes a week -- for real -- held much more potential damage than a dream about his male roommate. Or maybe he *wanted* her to find out. 

Now there was a disturbing thought. 

It wasn't like it was the end of the world. He could live without her, quite nicely. He was already planning to ask out the new librarian at the University. He sat straight up in his chair. 

So what the hell was this all about?! 

If he could put her out of his mind that easily, why had it been so important to be honest with her? Expose her to his innermost thoughts, when he wasn't even serious about her? What the hell was that about?! An experiment perhaps. After all, he was a scientist, and he loved studying humans in all their fascinating behavior. //So why don't you do some self-study, Sandburg?// Maybe he'd sabotaged himself, subconsciously planned all this. To make sure things with Sonia never got serious while telling himself he tried his best. To let his secret out, tell *someone*. 

He *really* didn't like the direction his thoughts were taking. 

Maybe she was right, and it wasn't just a dream. Maybe he really did want... He wasn't expecting the bright pain in his gut as his mind formed the idea. This was a *bad* road to go down. Led straight to Nowheresville, fast. With lots of sharp turns where a guy could sail off the edge of a cliff into a fiery crash and burn at the bottom. 

No way would Jim appreciate this. Jim wouldn't want to know this. //So much for honesty,// Blair thought. It was as highly overrated as he'd always suspected. In fact, it sucked. Time to tuck this puppy right back where it belonged -- in vague dreamland. Before he screwed up the best thing that had ever happened to him. Naomi Sandburg didn't raise no idiot, and Jim Ellison was a straight as they come. Blair had spent many months earning his respect, and painstakingly proving he wasn't just a sissy hippie. Too far to blow it all now. Too much to lose this time. For the first time... 

Penny, that was her name. She always smiled warmly at him, and they'd chat a bit while he was checking out his books. She wasn't too tall, about his height, blond. He hadn't dated a blond in awhile, it would be a nice change. He reached for his tea, a smile widening on his lips. And it was always a thrill finding out if they were *really* blondes...  
  


* * *

Jim found him a short time later, curled up on the couch asleep, Bugs Bunny cartoons running on the forgotten TV set. He had a smile on his face, and Jim briefly wondered what he was dreaming about, before covering him gently with a blanket and turning off the set.  
  


* * *

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